


Out of the Frying Pan...

by RingingSilence



Series: Princess Bride AU [4]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon-Typical The Hunt Content (The Magnus Archives), Fire Swamp (Princess Bride), It's going to get worse before it gets better, Jon and Martin grew up together on Jon's grandmother's farm, Jon's Self-Esteem Issues, M/M, Pre-Relationship, The Fire Swamp scene, because if I can't turn Princess Bride into a slow burn what's the point, but more arguing and banter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:27:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27718817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RingingSilence/pseuds/RingingSilence
Summary: “I, uh…” Martin said. “I’m not really the Dread Pirate Roberts.”In the Fire Swamp, questions are answered.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood & Jon Sims, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: Princess Bride AU [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2027389
Comments: 4
Kudos: 53





	Out of the Frying Pan...

The windswept hillside hadn’t been particularly noisy but the moment they passed into the tree line an eerie silence closed in around them. The smell of ash and methane burned Jon’s nose although they weren’t low enough to be in the swamp yet. That didn’t stop Jon from jumping at every crack of a branch or rustle of leaves and when some bird burst out of the bracken beside them he reflexively squeezed Martin’s hand. Martin squeezed back before he could apologize so he held on and let the tense silence continue unabated. The forest sank down steeply into the swamp, giving them glimpses through the gnarled trees of gouts of flame and rotting branches protruding from what looked like grassy patches of open ground. 

The howl of a hunting hound in the distance sent Jon stumbling over a twist of root but before he could fall there was Martin, pulling him close to steady him. “Don’t worry, they won’t follow us in here.”

“Why not?”

Martin smirked and tugged him along. “The Fire Swamp is a dangerous place, right? You must have heard of it.”

“There are many dangerous places.”

“Sure, but how many have fire shooting out of the ground?”

As if to make Martin’s point another pillar shot up out of the peaty ground in the distance, sending a flock of birds screeching into the sky. Jon rolled his eyes at Martin’s smug look and ventured forward. He didn’t let go of Martin’s hand. “And how many seas are full of enormous man-eating eels? That didn’t stop you from coming after us.”

“Someone had to come rescue you.”

Some of the burgeoning warmth in Jon’s chest flagged. “Yes…and how did you find out I needed rescuing? Why…why come back now?”

Martin’s hand nearly tugged out of Jon’s as he slowed to step around a snarl of roots. “…Lord Magnus doesn’t really want you to be his heir.”

Jon did let go, then. “What are you talking about?”

“He’s the one who arranged the kidnapping. He wants you dead so he can use you as an excuse to go to war with—“

“That’s absurd,” Jon snapped. “Why would he want to kill me? I’m no one, just a poor farmer’s son struggling to pay his debts.”

“Exactly: no one left to look into it too hard if you suddenly died and desperate enough not to ask too many questions when he made his offer.”

“But why kill me? Why arrange for his heir’s death?”

“Like I said: he wants an excuse to go to war with Guilder. If it looks like Queen Robinson had his heir stolen and murdered no one would argue against it.”

Jon swallowed the bitter lump forming in his throat and stormed away. He almost immediately stumbled over another root and flinched away the moment he felt Martin touch him to help. 

“Jon--”

“That’s a lie. It has to be.” He managed to regain his balance and continued on. 

“Then why, Jon? Why name you his heir?”

“Because…because of my experiences. Because I could bring a new perspective to the throne, the peoples’ voice.”

“Is that what he told you?”

Jon gritted his teeth against an answer. Lord Magnus had never actually said that, had he? He’d let Jon come to that conclusion all on his own and never contradicted it after. All he’d actually said was: _“I need someone from your…unique situation.”_

His silence was apparently answer enough for Martin. “Oh, Jon.”

“Don’t—“ he started to say when a soft sound, like a giggle, caught his attention. He looked around, expecting one of Magnus’ men to appear, but saw nothing except another burst of flame. “…Just…don’t. Perhaps you’re right, but he still paid off the farm’s debts.”

“So what? That doesn’t mean it’s okay that he was going to murder—“

Another giggle, closer, apparently distracted Martin from finishing his sentence and Jon jumped as another flare shot up from the path ahead of him. Jon carefully stepped around it. “Perhaps, but it’s like you said: no one was left to care. If he had to choose someone, at least…at least it wouldn’t hurt anyone else.”

“Jon—“

“You were gone! You were off gallivanting with pirates while I--…why? Why bother coming back now?” The giggling rose up right in front of him but he ignored it, waiting for Martin’s answer. He hesitated and Jon turned away to continue on. Around him the giggle reached a sharp pitch, almost a full laugh.

He let out a squawk as Martin scooped him off his feet and another pillar of fire shot up right where Jon had been standing. After a moment it crackled and vanished, leaving them in ear-ringing silence. Jon’s heart hammered in his chest, and not just because he’d nearly been roasted alive: Martin still held him close and when Jon turned to look at him he was greeted by such a look of sheer panic he almost couldn’t breathe. Martin recovered quickly though and carefully set him back down. “S-sorry. Um… guess we know how to avoid those, now. Let’s watch our step, yeah?”

“Right, right…” With a quick glance at the ground for any remaining embers he carefully continued forward. 

“I, uh…” Martin said. “I’m not really the Dread Pirate Roberts.”

“You’re not?” Jon’s foot started to sink in a soft patch of ground and he carefully edged around it. “No, of course you’re not. He’s been terrorizing the seas for years, much longer than—“

“Well, I sort of am? I’m in training for it, anyway.”

That pulled Jon up short. “What?”

Martin dithered behind him. “The Dread Pirate Roberts is sort of a title, like Lord Magnus. No one would take someone seriously if they ran around calling themselves the Dread Pirate Martin, right?”

“If they saw you without that mask they wouldn’t for more reasons than the name.”

That earned him a short bark of startled laughter and he vainly held back a smile.

“Okay, rude. A-anyway, so I was working on that trading vessel, like I told you, when we were captured by Roberts’ crew. Most everyone else was either killed or jumped overboard before they could be, but the pirates got me cornered. I fought, of course I did, but…well, playing pirate with pitchforks as kids is hardly the same thing, is it? When it became clear that they were going to kill me I…I begged. I told them I had someone who needed me, someone I absolutely had to go back to, and…I-I promised I’d do whatever they wanted, if I could just go back to you.” Martin took a shaking breath. “A-And a man wearing all-black, a little shorter than I expected but obviously Roberts, told the pirates to stand down. He asked if I was serious, asked me about you, then ordered them to take me below. I don’t know what he was planning but he came down a while later and we just…talked; about you, the farm, his crew, all night. When we were finished he got up and handed me a rope and said if I helped them get to shore he’d find some way to get word to you. We’d done some damage to his ship so I helped the crew repair it and sail her to shore. It took over a week to get to port, and every night Roberts came down to the hold where I slept and he’d say: “good night, Martin. Sleep well, ‘cause I’ll probably kill you in the morning.”

“Good lord.”

Martin chuckled. “Yeah, well, after a week of hearing that I sort of started blocking it out and focusing on how I’d escape once we reached land instead. As soon as we docked I snuck away, looking for somewhere to sneak off the ship but Roberts found me before I could. He didn’t try to stop me, though. He just handed me a bag of gold and said the company I’d been working for had been buying out smaller businesses all down the coast, like the land barons after the farm, which I knew. He also said that his crew was targeting their company and other too-rich ones like them, which I didn’t. He couldn’t let me leave because his reputation was one of the few things keeping them too scared to completely take over the coast, but if he killed me he would send the gold in my hands to you.

“Or, he said I could stay on a little longer. Do a little good, make a little more coin, that sort of thing, and someday when my crimes were enough to buy my silence he might let me leave the crew…and what should I have done? Said no and hoped the gold would be enough? Never see you again? I couldn’t risk that so I told him yes: I’d stay. So, for the past few years I’ve been part of his crew and about a year ago he pulled me aside again to tell me that actually, he wasn’t the real Dread Pirate Roberts. His name is Gerry, and the captain of _The Burning Leitner_ before him was Mikaele. The original Roberts, the real one, has been retired in the south somewhere for the last thirty years.”

“And now you’re Roberts.”

“In training, sort of? Gerry’s been transitioning the crew and playing a bit more of an advisor-y role since he told me but I guess he thought he could warm me up to taking on the mantle…until we heard about you.” A soft laugh. “I practically begged him to save you but pirates aren’t known for their altruism, especially not him. He couldn’t stop me from coming though. Not this time.”

Jon’s heart ached with the urge to reach out and touch him, maybe to hold him close and…but he kept his hands to himself. “You should have stayed with him.”

Martin laughed, a bitter bark that stabbed Jon in the chest, and shoved past him to keep moving forward. “Good to know all of this wasn’t for nothing.”

“That’s not—“ Jon started to trot after him but the sharp crunch of a branch snapping behind them pulled him up short. He spun around but didn’t catch more than a maybe-imagined flash of pale fur between the trees. He hurried to catch up with Martin, watching the surrounding forest. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Sure.”

“It’s not!” Another muffled crack, nearly hidden beneath the giggle of a fire spout, urged him closer to Martin. “I just meant that there’s no point to you rescuing me. If Lord Magnus really needs me to die he won’t stop until he’s sure I am, and if he catches you with me—“

“So I’m just supposed to let him kill you?”

“Yes!”

Martin whirled to face him and Jon nearly tripped backing away when Martin stalked towards him. “Why are you always so ready to throw yourself to the wolves? I’m not going to let him do this! I can’t!”

“Then what, Martin? We spend the rest of our lives here,” he waved at the smoky swamp around them, “and hope he never comes looking?”

“Why not? What are the dangers of the swamp: the fire, some quicksand, and a few overgrown mice? We managed with your grandmother’s half-wild mule when we were kids, we could handle all of that!

“For how long? Until someone else dies in my place? I’m sorry Martin, but if Lord Magnus is going to go out and find someone else to sacrifice to start a war I can’t ignore that.”

Martin scowled at him and Jon braced himself for another tirade. Instead, Martin threw up his hands and stomped away again. Another rustle shook the singed bushes behind him and Jon trotted to catch up, hanging back just a little. “…I’m sorr—“

“Don’t.”

“Martin.”

“Now now, Jon.”

Jon trailed behind him guiltily, wishing he could make anything better. The terrible situation was out of his hands, but… “…What does that even mean, Rodents of Unusual Size?”

Martin actually stumbled. Just a little thing, but unmistakable. “What does it matter?”

“Well, it’s not very descriptive is it? ‘Unusual’ could mean anything. The size of a cat? A dog? If they were the size of horses they probably wouldn’t fit in the swamp at all.”

There was just a hint of a smile in Martin’s voice when he sighed heavily. “Jon…”

“’Unusual’ just says that they’re outside of the normal size range. For all we know they aren’t even large.”

“Are you suggesting the infamous ROUS’s are, in fact, tiny,” Martin asked. He still didn’t turn around but there was definitely a smile, there.

Another branch cracked beneath the roar of the jets of fire and Jon slowly turned towards it, keeping his steps light so as not to worry Martin. “Imagine, all of the terrible rumors about the Fire Swamp and they boil down to a few willow-wisps and rats the size of gnats.”

A snatch of laughter was swallowed up by a dramatic groan. “You are absolutely infuriating. I’m angry at you right now!”

“All the more reason to ask.”

“We could be walking to your death and you’re questioning the dangers of the Fire Swamp while we’re still in it!”

“Better to die with that mystery solved than without knowing about the flea-sized rats of the Swamp.”

Martin laughed again, a little more freely, and Jon let himself grin at his back. 

When the hit came it was so sudden that Jon didn’t really process it. One moment he was standing behind Martin, the next he was crashing into the dry bracken beneath a mass of tawny fur. For a rodent the ROUS was surprisingly wolf-like, growling and snapping jagged fangs millimeters from his face. He managed to shove it back, kicking at its stomach until it turned and bit down on his leg. 

“Jon!” Martin grabbed the creature by the thick fur around its shoulders and tried to pull it off but it let out a raspy growl and held on tighter. He let go and Jon had a brief moment to wonder if he was going to run before firelight flashed off of his sword and the rat let go with a squeal of pain that was almost a roar. It spun away from Jon, baring teeth that gleamed red as it charged at Martin, and Jon threw himself onto its back. It bucked and writhed, coarse fur scratching at his face as it tried to turn and bite him again but he dug his fingers in and held on. 

“Let go! I can’t hit it with you in the way,” Martin shouted.

Jon would have loved to, but with as close as its teeth were coming to his face he had no doubt that it would maul him the moment he was off of its back. All he could do was cling on, surrounded by its wolfish snarls and the hysterical giggling of escaping gas—

The gas.

He focused on the laughter, turning his head until he was pretty sure he knew where it was coming from. Gritting his teeth, he dug both heels into the peaty ground and hurled himself and his attacker towards the incoming fire spout. The rodent thrashed and for one heart-stopping second it shook one of his hands loose, allowing it to turn towards him.

Fire erupted beneath the rat’s back and it howled. The hand still tangled in its fur seared with pain and Jon reflexively released it and crawled back away from the beast. It recovered more quickly than he did, rolling to its feet and stalking towards him. Embers smoldered across its burned shoulders and neck and its eyes glittered cruelly as it lunged again. The attack was cut off with a sharp whine when Martin finally sank his sword deep into the creature’s back. It snarled, whipping around to lunge at Martin but the next swing of the blade was practiced and precise and when the body hit the ground the beast did not stir again. That didn’t stop Martin from kicking it into another fire spout for good measure. Once he’d confirmed it was dead his attention quickly turned back to Jon. “How bad is it?”

Jon’s scoff turned to a gasp when Martin gingerly pulled the shredded leg of his trousers away from the bite wound. “I-It’s not that bad, honestly.”

“Not that bad? Seriously?”

“It barely had any time. I’m sure it’s—“ He hissed in another breath when Martin pressed down on it, nauseous with pain. Martin tugged off Jon’s ruined waistcoat to wrap around the wound and Jon didn’t resist.

“It would be funny how little you’ve changed if it weren’t so frustrating.” Martin finished securing the makeshift bandage with a grim frown. “…We can’t stay here.”

“No, we can’t.”

Gently, Martin helped Jon up and together they limped their way out of the swamp. The smell of soot hadn’t even begun to fade before the path filled with the thundering of hooves and they found themselves surrounded by the royal hunting party. Lord Magnus himself in all of his carefully-tailored glory stopped his horse in front of them. “I’m glad we finally found you. I was certain that those brigands were going to kill you before we caught up.”

“Yes, well, it wasn’t for want of trying,” Martin growled.

Magnus’ eyes narrowed. “And I suppose you are the daring soul who rescued him? Thank you for your help, but we’ll take it from here.”

Magnus motioned for Jon to come to him but before he could approach, Martin locked an arm around him. “No, he won’t be returning with you.”

Magnus raised one perfect eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I don’t know why you bothered to send such a large party to retrieve him when you were the one who hired those people in the first place.”

A hush fell over the group, broken only by the anxious scuffing of the horses’ hooves. Jon saw Lady Nikola lean over the neck of her horse to watch them, her doll-like face pulled up in an amused smile. He turned back to Magnus when the man broke the silence with a voice like ice. “And what leads you to believe that?"

Martin bared his teeth in a grin and gently pushed Jon behind himself. “I suppose technically it wasn’t you, but you should really teach your goons to be more discrete when asking around a bunch of criminals for a job that paid that well.”

Magnus returned the smile primly. “I’m sorry, but I believe you are confused.”

“So you didn’t hire a crew of thugs to kidnap and murder your freshly-chosen heir and frame Guilder for it? It would make quite a good excuse to go to war without any real sacrifice on your part, and would explain the war ships already gathering on the border.”

“Bold accusations to make, especially seeing as, as you pointed out, we are quite a large party and you are only two people.”

Martin raised his chin defiantly. “You won’t harm us.”

“And why not? If you are correct I probably came here with the intention of ensuring the job was completed and all loose ends dealt with. What’s to stop me from carrying out that mission despite the unexpected addition of yourself, Mr….I’m sorry, I don’t believe you’ve introduced yourself.”

“Roberts,” Martin said. “The Dread Pirate Roberts to most, and you won’t harm us because you are going to name me your heir instead.”

The silence was much shorter this time before Magnus laughed. The members of the hunting party quickly followed suit and even Nikola tittered gleefully. “This is a funny one! Can I have him?”

Magnus silenced the group with a wave of his hand and turned back to Martin. “Really? And why would I do that, Mr. Roberts?”

“Because you wouldn’t have to risk anyone finding out you were involved in my death. The moment you announced you had the notorious pirate captain in your palace, assassins would come after me without you having to ask. You wouldn’t have to do more than let them in.”

“And you’re offering to take Jon’s place, to die in his place, out of the goodness of your heart?”

Jon tried to get in front of Martin again but Martin held him back. “Of course not. I want your guarantee that none of your people or their hirelings will harm Jon and that I would get a room facing the sea. It would be a better way to die than on a sinking ship or under cannon-fire, and maybe dying to save a life would absolve me of my unnumbered victims.”

“And in return, I get…?”

“A willing sacrifice. I’ll put up a fight of course when the time comes, but until then I won’t leave my room. I’ll be little more than a guest.”

Jon struggled again and suddenly he found himself pinned by Magnus’ cold gaze. It was intent, searching, and Jon countered it with as venomous a scowl as he could give. 

“…Very well,” Magnus said. “I give you my word that my people will not harm a hair on Jon’s graying head as long as you play your part.” He held out his hand and after a moment of hesitation Martin unbuckled his sword from his belt and handed it up to him. Magnus gave it a thoughtful twirl. “It’s well-made.”

“That’s what your hired killer said, too.”

“Before you killed them?” Magnus smiled again and handed the sword off to Nikola. “I appreciate not having to tie up that particular loose end myself. Shall we?”

Jon grabbed Martin’s arm and just managed to pull him back without falling. “Don’t do this.”

Martin smiled softly and ever-so-gently pried Jon’s fingers from his sleeve. He held the hand in both of his for a moment before lifting it to his lips. “Goodbye, Jon,” he murmured against Jon’s knuckles. He didn’t look back or hesitate when he dropped it to go to Magnus, swinging up onto the back of the saddle with the ease of growing up on a farm. 

“We’ll be back at the palace making arrangements. Don’t take too long.” Magnus turned his horse to leave and Jon tried to stop him. His injured leg gave out before he’d made it more than a step and he watched helplessly as most of the group thundered away after him. 

Most, not all. 

Nikola and two paint-faced attendants stayed behind, circling around Jon. He clenched his shaking hands and was rewarded by stabbing pain from his burned fingers. “Lord Magnus promised my safety!”

“Oh, I’m not one of Magnus’ people. I’m just here to lend a hand for a bit!” She smiled down at him. “But don’t worry: we’ll have lots of fun together!”

**Author's Note:**

> "Haha, who would be Miracle Max in this Princess Bride AU?"  
> and then I needed to write it.  
> and then I needed context before that.  
> Yes, I'm writing this out of order. If I keep going, this'll be an every-once-in-a-while thing.
> 
> ...There's still time for someone to stop me. :')
> 
> The Star Wars fic should get updated by Sunday, if anyone's waiting on that~


End file.
